I've worn designer perfumes in my day. I've bathed in essential oils. I've owned the complete set of White Tea and Ginger bath and beauty products from Bath and Body Works - it's my signature scent. I've been known to wear Michael, by Michael Kors, another favorite scent.
Guess what I smell like right now, though?
Eau de Coco parfum.
Coco, as in Chanel, you might ask?!
[Above, Coco Chanel, photographed with her necklace all messed up. Or maybe her dress was on backwards. Tres chic. Or she was tres drunk. Who knows?!?]
Well, no. Not that Coco.
Coco Thompson.
I smell like my dog. Coco.
I just bathed her in the kitchen sink with some expensive mint and rosemary shampoo. That's not what I smell like, though.
I smell like wet dog. [Or dawg, as we say in Georgia.]
My house is a wreck and I haven't even begun to cook, but dadgummit THE DOG HAS BEEN CLIPPED AND BATHED!
She is clean. I have not photographed her. I am too tired.
Michael and I bought professional scissors at Sally's Beauty Supply, and I put a purple shampoo cape on my bed, but dog hair still got everywhere. Michael actually hauled the big vacuum cleaner up the stairs and fixed up the wand and went to town on the bed, the floor, me. Yes, he vacuumed me. I was wearing my favorite ratty, holey, work-around-the-house-only tee shirt. Red. Now with a fine coat of black hair, despite being vacuumed.
I got rather excited about the suction and started vacuuming up dust bunnies until my back screamed in protest. The bunnies are too numerous. You know how bunnies breed.
Then I thought, I'm going to bathe Coco. I'm already dirty and filthy and I smell like dog. Why not just give her a bath?? It's been several months. Even a dog that never goes outside gets dirty in that time.
Michael did most of the clipping, I must admit. He has gotten really good at it, too. I tend to just nervously snip here and there, but Michael methodically and carefully goes all over her, in a pattern.
Of course, Coco was drugged. We cannot take a chance on accidentally nipping her with the scissors because then the cut would open up and she'd have to go to the vet, to the tune of another $500 or so. Pound for pound, Coco is worth more than a nice car, trust me. However, she is our baby.
So Coco had 3/4 of a little pink pill, ground up in some yogurt. She told me next time she even smells yogurt she is going to bark out this warning to all the dogs in the neighborhood:
This is Coco! Listen up mutts!
Don't eat the pink yogurt, for the love of Mike! You will be held down on Sissy's bed and cut with razor sharp scissors, and then Mike will go crazy with the loud sucking thing! It will be HORRIBLE!
Then you will get a bath.
Sissy will scrub your behind with minty smelling goo all the time making babytalk like what a good girl you are, ooh let's get her little hoo-ha clean, let's clean behind her ears...
It's enough to make you want to vomit.
But you will get Sissy back, oh yes. You will have your revenge. You can do like me and roll around all over the good sofa, making snuffling noises. Then you can jump on mama's bed and roll around. You can grind your face into the carpet, too.
You can eat a bug! Go for it!
OK, I'm exhausted now.
Coco out.
Sissy said if you want to get her something for Christmas, try White Tea and Ginger stuff. It smells vile but humans like bad smells. They are SO weird...
